


Opera and Onigiri

by cleanlittlesecret



Category: Princess Principal (Anime)
Genre: Cultural Differences, F/F, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-11 05:07:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13517208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cleanlittlesecret/pseuds/cleanlittlesecret
Summary: Originally written for the prompt, "Ooo how about a cute date prompt with either beatrice/ange, ange/chise, or chise/beatrice??(ur choice!)"





	Opera and Onigiri

“Have fun, girls! Don’t make too much trouble, and remember, I’ll be back after the show to pick you two up!” Dorothy waved with her entire arm before driving away, and Beatrice could only hope she wouldn’t find some pub to crash in for the next few hours. Standing on the sidewalk in front of the opera house, she felt more than a little vulnerable in her party dress, and Charlotte wasn’t here to protect her this time, so she adjusted the bow hiding her throat mechanism and turned to her only companion for the night—Chise Todo.

“Shall we go in, Miss Chise?”

Chise had been examining the front of the opera house with narrow eyes, but she looked over to nod at Beatrice. “Sure.”

As they climbed the steps together, Beatrice couldn’t decide what to do with her hands. She wanted to hold Chise’s hand or at least take her arm, but was that acceptable? What did people in Japan do when they went out together? What if Chise thought she was being weird or creepy? Her mind already buzzing, she kept her hands to herself and instead focused on the tickets she held. Taking Chise to an opera had been her idea, a chance to ‘ _show Chise some of Albion’s culture,’_  but now she faced the possibility she wouldn’t get through the night without having a panic attack.

When it came time for their tickets to be checked, Beatrice almost died at the sight of her sweat staining the paper. The man behind the counter didn’t comment on it, and Chise was too busy looking at the crystal chandelier hanging over the center of the hall to notice, but Beatrice murmured a quick apology after he gave her directions to the proper door. Two steps into the auditorium, her nerves constricted her chest, and Beatrice froze, her arms wrapping around her stomach as nausea squirmed into her mouth. Chise’s eyes flicked to her.

“Is something wrong, Beatrice?”

“I-I…” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “Excuse me!” Beatrice fled through the opera house until she found the lavatory and a toilet to lean over. She stood there, trembling as she held her skirt so the hem wouldn’t touch the floor. Despite how ill she felt, nothing came up, and when she realized what she’d done, the flowers and birds painted on the porcelain mocked her. _What must Chise be thinking, left alone in a building full of people and things foreign to her?_

A blend of polite chatter invaded the room as the lavatory’s door opened, and Beatrice slammed her stall shut.

“Beatrice, are you in here?” Chise called. Just as Beatrice thought to adjust her voice to send Chise away, she said, “I can see the hem of your dress under that door, Beatrice.”

With a small whimper, Beatrice opened the stall door and lowered the toilet’s lid so she could sit. Unable to meet Chise’s eyes, she buried her face in her hands. “I’m sorry, Miss Chise. I felt like I was going to be sick, but—” A growl interrupted, and she flinched as heat burst into her face. Her hands lowered to let her glare at her own stomach.

“When was the last time you ate today?” Chise said.

Beatrice stared at a rose painted on the wall as she cleared her throat. Of course, she had been so fixated on this outing—listing all the ways it could go wrong, checking all the things she needed to do to prepare—she had forgotten to eat anything besides a slice of bread at breakfast. Finally, she looked away from the painting, and her eyes widened when she found Chise was smiling.

“No wonder you feel sick then, but I can’t blame you for not wanting to eat the food here.” She reached into the top of her dress and pulled out a small green bundle—were those  _leaves?_

“Did you hide food inside your clothes again?!” Beatrice squealed. “Stop doing that, Miss Chise! That dress is too nice for you to stain it with something smelly!”

“It’s just a little onigiri.” Chise unwrapped the leaves to reveal three small triangles of…rice? How on Earth had she made something like that, and how were they holding their shape so well? She offered the bundle to Beatrice. “Here. Help yourself.”

The food had an odd smell, something Beatrice still hadn’t adjusted to despite how much time she’d spent with Chise as roommates, but she couldn’t stop her mouth from watering a little before it hit her where exactly they were. “I’m not going to eat inside a lavatory! That’s disgusting, and what if someone comes in here and finds us?”

“We’re in a…?” Chise looked around, staring at the art on  _everything_  before finally noticing the toilet in the next stall over. “Oh. I thought this was some kind of sitting room.” She returned her attention to Beatrice. “Then would you prefer we go somewhere else to eat? Isn’t it already close to when the thing is supposed to start?”

Beatrice opened her mouth for another protest, but Chise  _was_  right about how little time they had, so at last, she gave in and took one of the triangles. The rice stuck to her fingers, and biting into it almost broke her nerves, but it wasn’t  _awful_. She chewed the small bite, swallowed, tried another, and yelped at the softness she found this time. “What’s in this thing?!”

“Tuna. Isn’t it good?” She picked up one of the triangles to try it, and Beatrice couldn’t help but smile at the way Chise closed her eyes to savor the bite. This was ridiculous, just like so many other situations she had gotten into with Chise already—what had she been worried about? Chise had said she thought all Westerners were weird but still spent time with Beatrice anyways, and she had even agreed to go on a date with her. That was something Beatrice had liked, after all.

Hurrying to finish before they could be caught eating in a lavatory, Beatrice inhaled the rice and fish and took the remaining triangle. “You’re a little odd, Miss Chise, but I’m happy you’re here with me.”

“I feel the same about you.” Grinning, Chise held a floppy, pale slice of  _something_ towards her. “Would you like to try the pickled cabbage?”

“No, thank you!” Beatrice bolted to get past Chise and away from the cabbage. She had already learned to fear Chise’s pickled foods, and no amount of affection could make her want to repeat that lesson.


End file.
